


These Bruises

by sasha_dragon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 23:32:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17796863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasha_dragon/pseuds/sasha_dragon
Summary: After sending John back to 2003 Dean wants something to remember his dad’s return by. It’s too bad all he’s got are bruises.





	These Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> After watching the glory that was episode 300, my darling muse stirred from hibernation, he yawned, ran his fingers through his long blonde hair smiled seductively and I was off! Who knows this might be the start of me scribbling again, before you all run screaming for the hills I have a couple of people to say thank you to. First, Bigj52 a beta without compare and a woman with the patience of a saint, who turns my scribbles into English. And chellexx who in the words of milly-gal has become my Obi and constantly encourages me write. So now you know where to send all your complaints to!
> 
> This story contains spoiler for season 14, so if you don't want to be spoiled turn back now!

  
  
Dean flinched as Sam brought the heavy bowl down on top of the fragile pearl again. He wanted to scream and beg Sam to stop, but it was too late as in a dazzling flash of light, dad was gone. The light faded and mom looked down at her empty hand, then turned tear-filled eyes to her boys, lost in fresh grief. Dean didn’t know how long they stood looking at one another in silence, then the Bunker’s door opened, and the peace was shattered.  
  
They rushed to see who it was, and when they realized it was Castiel, they gave him a wary look. The Angel returned their look, his brow furrowed with concern. “What happened?”  
  
Dean relaxed. It was their Cas, not the T1000 warrior of god version Zachariah had brought with him. “Now there’s a story,” he replied as he motioned Cas to join them.  
  
They sat around the table and he poured everyone a drink. As they sipped their whisky, the brothers told Cas all about the pearl. How it brought John back, and the few precious hours they’d got to be a family, before they’d been forced to return dad to his own time, to stop Sam’s temporal paradox becoming permanent. Dean was pretty sure he’d never get the memory of Sam’s ‘Ted’ talk out of his head. Perhaps he could shove it behind the door with Michael. That would really give the Archangel something to scream about.  
  
Cas looked down at the glass in his hand. “It must’ve been hard to send John back.” He looked up and gave them a sympathetic smile.  
  
Dean managed a weak smile in response. “It was the right thing to do. We couldn’t leave the world with Sam lecturing everyone on the merits of kale.” Dean shuddered, then he looked up at Cas and grinned. “You know I’d forgotten how much of a dick you were in the beginning. All that following orders and smiting first, and asking questions … well, not asking questions.”  
  
 Dean reached for the whisky bottle and winced. Damn, he ached. ‘Terminator Cas’ had kicked his and Sam’s asses. Cas tilted his head and narrowed his eyes in an unspoken question. Dean shrugged as he topped up everyone’s glasses. “Zachariah sic’d you on us. I’d forgotten how hard you can hit. I could’ve done without the reminder,” he said with a slight smile, as he put the bottle down and took a drink, purely for medicinal reasons, of course.  
  
A look of realization crossed Cas’s face and he nodded. “Even when I didn’t question my orders from my superiors, I always knew Zachariah was an assbutt,” Cas commented solemnly, but there was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke. He sobered and stretched out his hand. “Let me take care of that for you, it’s my fault you’re hurt.”  
  
Dean raised his hand. “It wasn’t you. Ok, well it was you, but it wasn’t, if you get what I mean.” Dean smiled at the angel’s perplexed expression. “But if you don’t mind, I’ll pass on the healing. You can help Sammy, though.” He nodded at his brother.  
  
Cas looked round the table and frowned again. “Why don’t you want me to help you?”  
  
Dean looked down at the table as he traced the grain of the wood with his finger. “The bruises make the whole thing real, you know?”  He looked up at Sam who smiled softly in response. “They proved that dad was here, if only for a little while. So, if it’s alright with you, I’ll pass on getting them wiped.” Dean took another sip of whisky to try and dissolve the lump in his throat, then he plastered a smile on his face and offered, “Who’s for another?”  
  
Sam drained his drink and held out his glass, then he started to talk about dad, magical Chinese pearls and temporal paradoxes. Dean let the words wash over him, enjoying the banter around the table. Dean finished his drink and stood up. “I hate to break up the party, but it’s been a long day. I’m gonna head to bed.”  
  
“Goodnight, sweetheart.” Mary said, as Dean pushed his chair back.  
  
“’Night, Dean.” Sam said, as Cas added his voice to wishing him goodnight.  
  
Dean nodded, feeling like he was in an episode of the Waltons. “’Night, mom, Cas. See you in the morning.” As Dean walked past Sam, he squeezed his shoulder. “’Night, Sammy.”  
  
As he walked away, he heard soft voices. He’d bet his entire collection of vintage _Busty Asian Babe_ magazines they were talking about him and the Archangel locked in his head. That was a problem for the morning, tonight he had better things to think about.  
  
Dean reached his room and went inside, leant back against the door and closed his eyes. He was enjoying the last moments of peace in his head. There was something he hadn’t told Sam; all the while dad was there, Michael had been quiet.  Now without his father’s reassuring presence, the Archangel’s angry screams were growing in volume again, and if Sam ever found out, he knew his brother would be consumed by guilt.  
  
Dean rubbed at his eyes and walked slowly to the bed and sat down. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and concentrated. Michael’s screams faded as he remembered his father’s laughter, and the love in his mother’s eyes, as they sat at the table together. He focused on Sam and how he seemed lighter after his little chat with dad. Dean had spotted them together, and made himself scarce. He knew Sam was finally at peace with dad, and that made him happy.  
He thought about his own conversation with dad and how hearing ‘I’m proud of you,’ had meant so much, and at long last finally telling his dad he loved him. He’d cling to those memories for as long as he could. He’d use them to quieten the sound of Michael hurling himself against the door in his mind for as long as he could. And if the time came for him to end up in that box, Dean knew he’d got that one perfect moment to sustain him.  
  
But for now, he’d keep fighting and as he lay down, Dean heard his father’s laughter again, and the rest was silence.


End file.
